


Shut Up and Dance with Me

by Meduseld



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Awkwardness, Dancing, Dorks in Love, First Time, M/M, Some form of Hal/Barry is happening in the background
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 02:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11244651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meduseld/pseuds/Meduseld
Summary: Bruce is terrible at parties. Clark is terrible at words. It evens out.





	Shut Up and Dance with Me

**Author's Note:**

> [This comic](http://ireallyshouldbedrawing.tumblr.com/post/112399048505) started it.

Arthur and Mera have already had a wedding reception. Two, actually. But it’s not like they don’t know that Arthur’s invitation to come down to the lighthouse (“the house by the lighthouse, actually”) to celebrate isjust a thinly veiled excuse to party. Bruce almost protests, but Clark bumps his elbow into his and smiles. That kind of settles it.

The party is kind of wonderful, not a loud, hyperactive or excessivelygaudy affair like the ones he usually hosts in Wayne Manor for Playboy Brucie. They’re in Arthur’s backyard, decorated with lanterns Mera made with bioluminescent plankton. Dinah’s iPod is playing DJ. Nobody is expecting him to monopolize the center of attention, or make a drunken ass of himself or even try to force him into conversation. (The only conversations he’s had a parties for years is “drunken” slurring about models and cars). They don’t even seem to find it odd that Bruce spends the first hour just petting Arthur’s dog. This is Bruce, actual Bruce, at a party.

It’s…nice.

He slowly works his way to the backyard and stops for a moment to watch Diana and Mera bent close to Dinah as she shows them how her iPod works. It’s like watching a Renaissance painting come alive. It’s Diana that starts the dancing. She gets Dinah to put on something with a beat and does the Amazonian equivalent of the electric slide and they all join in. 

Bruce has just gotten the hang of it, which is of course when Jordan notices Bruce in the shuffle and declares that they should all try to get in a dance with him.

He goes first of course, and annoyingly he’s pretty good at it. He smirks like he knows what Bruce is thinking. (Bruce feels completely justified in stomping on his toe). Barry goes next, nervous and overthinking it. If he relaxed he’d actually be good at it, but Bruce doesn’t know if it’s because of him, or Barry’s insecurities around his powers, or both. 

Jordan whisks Barry away halfway though, declaring loudly that he’s preserving the integrity of the speedster’s feet. Barry goes red but his dancing improves remarkably and Bruce doesn’t want to think about that too closely. For now anyway. (The League doesn’t exactly have fraternization protocols. Bruce has definitely not spent hours thinking about that).

Almost immediately, Ollie and Dinah surround him and somehow they manage a passable three person shimmy. Dinah’s hair gets in his face and Ollie’s goatee scratches his neck but he finds himself laughing. (The last party actual Bruce attended was a birthday party his mother organized. It hadn’t exactly gone well, and his next birthday party only consisted of his parents and Alfred). Then Diana picks him up and spins him around and they try to outdo each other. And then she spins him into Clark.

The wind gets knocked out of him because Clark is basically a warm concrete wall, and he stumbles because Clark stays absolutely still instead of trying to catch him. “Wow. Nice reflexes Kent” he tries and Clark’s face remains set. He’s almost frowning.

Bruce starts to wonder if he’s done something wrong.

“Well. It’s your turn, I think” he tries, using a smarmy knockoff of Playboy Brucie’s tone when he offers his hand. Clark shakes his head. Oh god, what’s Bruce done? Brucie isn’t supposed to be at this party. But Batman isn’t either. Maybe that’s the problem? Clark was expecting him to be broody and gloomy and… 

“C'mon. I danced with Hal, even” and this time his tone slides closer to Batman’s growl. Clark shakes his head; “I won’t…” (Diana is starting to look at them anxiously and this is exactly why actual Bruce isn’t allowed at parties)

“Hey!” Jordan yells and Bruce winces but when he looks over, Jordan is turning to Arthur. “Let’s do karaoke! Or like, try to, you’re by the iPod put on, uh, Barry what songs do we all know the words to?” Barry’s arms are still looped loosely around Jordan’s waist and he drops them suddenly, turning red when everyone’s attention swivels over. 

(Diana gets a hand on Clark’s shoulder, leaning in to whisper and he looks away from Bruce at last. He’s not sure that what he’s feeling is relief)

Mera’s asking what karaoke is and Oliver’s lobbying for Jesse’s Girl over Dinah’s objections and Bruce slinks back to the kitchen, where Arthur’s dog is curled up. He’s happy to leave behind Diana’s worried face and Barry’s anxious look and the suspicion that Jordan’s outburst wasn’t coincidental. The pilot loves the sound of his own name, after all. Thinking about Jordan’s fat head and running his hand over the dog’s fur helps keep his mind off the fact that he, once again, proved that he’s not fit for human consumption. 

He should really only be allowed around criminals. And Alfred. (For God’s sakes he’s wearing a black turtleneck to a seaside party in the summer. Why had Alfred even let him leave the house?)    

 

“Hey” says Clark’s voice, loud in the small kitchen, and Bruce turns to him. “Why not?” is not actually what he was planning to say, but there it is.

Clark looks away, scratches his head, tilts his neck. “Um. I. Well, that is to say…uh” Bruce just stares him down because they can’t just let this go. Whatever needs to be said will be said, and it’s. It’s for the best.

“Because. If I…if I ever put my arms around you I don’t think I’d let go”.

Bruce just stares. Clark looks like he’s going to be sick. The dog barks and Bruce realizes belatedly that he has no idea what it’s called. And then his brain finishes catching up with him and he puts his arms around Clark’s waist and presses his forehead into his shoulder. He’s not all that comfortable, because Clark is tense and _solid_ but then his arms come around Bruce and his lips press against his cheekbone.

“Okay” he says. “Okay.”

 

It’s a little awkward, swaying in Arthur’s tiny, fish-smelling, kitchen with his nameless dog winding circles around them while they’re trying to find a rhythm in the tuneless caterwauling drifting in from the backyard. But as far as first dances go, Bruce thinks it’s pretty spectacular.


End file.
